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The Bad Neighbor 3/6
Part Two
In the morning, Rhys Williams woke up without a hangover. He felt pretty good actually – though some eggy toast and a cup of hot coffee did sound brilliant. Rubbing the sleep and gunk off his face, he stretched one arm lazily out to grope the space next to him. Empty. Well. That was becoming an oddly reoccurring situation. Rhys rolled out of bed, whistling, and grabbed his robe from the bathroom door. He stepped out into the living space, expecting the sight of Gwen and Ianto and breakfast to greet him. Instead, there was nothing. Ianto's blankets and pillow were scattered about and that, too, wasn't quite right. Normally, Ianto left everything tidied and folded up nicer than when he got there.
"Hello?"
Alright, Rhys wasn't entirely sure who he expected to answer then. It wasn't as if the two of them were hiding behind the sofa. He could see behind the sofa – that definitely wasn't the case. So they'd probably been called out for some sort of emergency. It was good of Gwen to let him sleep, really. Rhys checked his mobile that he'd left on the kitchen table. No messages. Must have been quite an adventure. He hit Gwen's number on the speed dial and instantly heard the dancing tones of some Scissors Sisters song fill the flat. That explained no messages. Fairly typical and better than her losing the new phone to some sort of slime again.
Another quick investigation revealed Ianto had forgotten his tie, but everything else had been collected and accounted for. Rhys shot off a quick text to Ianto, telling him to let Gwen know he'd found her mobile, and started to get ready for work.
Rhys didn't think anything else of it until around lunchtime when a flashing series of asterisks appeared on his mobile's caller ID. There was only one number that ever popped up like that.
"Hello, sweetheart. I was about to wonder if you'd forgotten about me."
"Oh, Rhys Williams, with those big strong hands of yours, how could anyone forget you?
Rhys's face instantly flushed and he ducked into his office, shutting the door quickly before his staff could question his agitated state. "Jack Harkness, you can fuck off with that right now. You don't pretend to be a man's wife on the phone just to embarrass him. "
Jack chuckled and Rhys had to suppress his irritation at the smooth American voice over the phone. He was really starting to think he had a bias against that continent's accents. "I didn't pretend. You assumed."
"Right. Well. Close enough." Rhys flopped down in his office chair and ran a hand through his hair. "Gwen s'okay, isn't she?" He figured, honestly, that she was. Harkness was a bit of a prat, but even he wouldn't put on airs if Gwen was hurt or in trouble.
"Dunno. Was hoping you could answer that. I seem to be missing my entire staff."
"Gwen and Ianto, eh? Probably needed a break from you." Jack huffed over the line but before he could respond, Rhys frowned. "They were gone before I was awake. I assumed they were off with you."
"No. I called them both –"
"Gwen left her mobile at home."
"Of course she did. No answer from Ianto though."
"Aye, yeah. I sent him a message earlier. No response. Thought they were busy. He doesn't like texting much."
"Depends on what you're sending him."
Rhys squeezed his eyes shut. He liked Ianto, he did. After the explosions in Cardiff, and Gwen's unofficial adoption of him into their family, Rhys had grown attached to him. He'd still never understand what the hell a boy from Newport was doing with Jack Harkness, but, you know, can't get into the head of others. "So they're not here, and they're not with you…"
"I'm turning on the tracking unit in Ianto's mobile."
"Tracking unit—Christ. Do you have one in Gwen's as well?"
"And yours."
Rhys pulled away from the mobile and looked at the phone suspiciously, as if he could force the phone into giving up whether or not Jack was lying. "You're joking."
"No, hold on." There was the clacking of computer keys on the other end of the line and then a victorious little a-ha. "He's at your place."
"I was there. They aren't."
"Must have been out when you left and came back. Maybe," Jack's voice dropped in pitch and took a flirty tone that immediately put Rhys's teeth on edge. "Maybe they're having an illicit affair and want to keep it from us." Rhys choked out a laugh and shook his head. "Come on, Rhys. Even you have to admit that'd be a pretty sight to walk in on."
Oh, how he sometimes wanted to hit this man. "Right. Well, I know Gwen's pretty happy. Maybe you're a bit worried about where Ianto goes at night, but I'm not."
An awkward silence answered him.
"Want me to go check on them? Rhys asked lamely, trying to fix the apparent faux paus he'd just committed.
"Er. Yeah. If you could. I'm a little busy here and I've got some meetings in an hour."
"No problem. I'll yell at them for you."
"Thanks. Also, if they're naked, take pictures."
Rhys, instead of responding, jabbed the disconnect button on his mobile as forcibly as he could.
****
Rhys told his staff he was popping out because Gwen had gone home sick. He left Bev in charge and kept his mobile in his pocket in case anyone needed him. The drive back was short and Rhys jogged up the stairs without a thought of odd neighbors.
"Gwen?" He yelled as he stepped into the flat. "Ianto? You two alright?" Silence answered him. He frowned. Everything looked the same as when he left. No new dirty dishes, television off and Ianto's blanket folded at the end of the couch where he'd left it that morning. Rhys crept to the bedroom, but he could hear no sounds from there either.
It was ridiculous. Jack had been teasing him. Jack always joked about naked teambuilding and often invited Rhys to join in as well. However, it didn't help the tense feeling in Rhys's muscles. He was only human. Gwen was too, but she had that sexy super spy thing going on. Rhys pushed the door open gently. "Gwen?" he called out softly. The room was empty and Rhys felt all the muscles in his back and neck unwind as he exhaled.
Rhys sat heavily on the bed and looked around, perturbed at the normalcy of it all. Jack didn't know where Gwen and Ianto were. Rhys didn't. Neither of them were responding to calls. It... didn't look good. Rhys pulled out his phone and called the number Gwen gave him to get a hold of her work. Jack answered on the second ring.
"You know, I may need to explain to your gorgeous wife what a private number is."
"They're not here."
There was a pause. "Really? Ianto's GPS signal is still there."
"Yeah, well he's not."
Jack hmm'd over the phone and Rhys heard the sound of a chair scooting across hard floor. "Were there any signs of forced entry or struggle when you got up this morning?"
"What? You think they were kidnapped?"
"Rhys."
"Really though, how would someone manage to kidnap two alien hunters from my flat, successfully, without waking me up? I don't snore tha—"
"Rhys."
Rhys rubbed his forehead. "No, nothing. Looked like they got up and left for work. All I found was Gwen's phone and Ianto's tie."
"That doesn't sound like Ianto to leave for work not dressed."
"He did the last time he was here. Said he had clothes there."
There was an embarrassed cough from over the line and a weak smile traced Rhys's face. He'd normally be enjoying Jack's discomfort, but Jack sounded worried. If Jack was worried, well…
"You sure they aren't out on the job?"
"I think I'd know if they were. I was here all night. Ianto didn't even message me this morning."
Rhys fell backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "What do we do then?"
"You? Nothing. I'm coming over to look for clues."
"Right. Well. I'll put the kettle on."
Jack was there in ten minutes, which could only mean he violated every speeding and traffic law in Cardiff to get there. They'd searched the place, questioned some people in the neighborhood and came up with nothing. Rhys had even broken down and called Andy Davidson, the smug bastard. When Andy made a comment about Rhys and Captain Flappity Coat not keeping up with their people, both men rolled their eyes. Then shuddered. Even if it was just mutual annoyance with Andy, neither was quite ready for a manly bonding session Hours later, well past dusk, Rhys had given up on going back to work and was genuinely, sincerely worried. The drawn look on Jack's face suggested the same. Now Jack was standing in Rhys's living room, picking up blankets and couch cushions and glaring at Ianto's tie like it was a hostile witness.
Finally, Jack sat down on the couch in defeat. He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure nothing strange happened?"
"No. I told you. We ate. Gwen scolded our neighbor for being loud. She came back. We drank some more."
"Which neighbor?"
"I've told you. The one upstairs. Look, there's something off about him, I'll give you that. But she came back and she was fine, and I doubt he managed to sneak in here and whisk them away when I wasn't looking."
"No, you were asleep."
Rhys glared and took a seat at the kitchen table. "So, what do we do now?"
"I guess we'll start asking around again. See if anything's been reported to the police ---"
A beeping filled the flat and Jack pulled his mobile out of his great coat. His brow furrowed in confusion.
"What's that then?"
Jack clicked a few buttons before looking up at Rhys. "Ianto's turned his phone on. He's at – some club. Seriously?" Jack narrowed his eyes and jabbed a button, presumably a speed dial, to connect to Ianto's. He held the phone to his ear for a moment before growling and shoving into his pocket again. "Okay. Now I'm just getting pissed off."
"What is it?"
"I think he's rejecting my calls!"
Rhys let his head fall back onto his shoulders and groaned. "Is that was this is then? Did you two have a domestic and they've fucked off for a day to teach you a lesson? Bloody Harkness, it's one thing to put Gwen in danger and ano—"
Jack snapped his fingers loudly. "Hey. Hey! First, we don't do domestics. That's for resigned married slobs with morbid fascinations with cooking shows and spaghetti. Second, he doesn't ignore my calls, even if he's being pissy. Not in our line of work. You sure you didn't do anything wrong?"
"Me? Me! Oh, not bloody likely." Rhys stood up and grabbed his coat from a nearby table. "Enough of this. Let's go see where he is and if he knows what the fuck is going on."
Jack looked like he wanted to continue fighting but paused, as if he was trying to come up with a better plan than the one Rhys suggested. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. Stay behind me and make sure you do what I say. We don't know what we're walking into."
"Yeah, would hate for someone to buy me a drink or something."
****
The club that Jack parked across the street from – illegally – was not the sort of place Rhys imagined finding Gwen or Ianto. It was a bit posh, mostly. Not that Rhys couldn't imagine Ianto somewhere posh; he just imagined Ianto somewhere classy with nice scotch. This was more for young people who wanted to shag and be seen than the sort of establishment he'd imagine Ianto frequenting. Rhys looked down at his jeans and long sleeved shirt and then over at the slim young things in line in trendy clothes. "We're not getting in there."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Welsh. Act confident and you can get in anywhere."
"Suppose that's how you manage looking like something from a period film all the time."
Jack pouted, actually pouted with his lip out, and Rhys stared back at him. Jack met his gaze and their silent battle of wills engaged. Finally, Rhys broke away and shook his head. "I can't believe neither of them have bothered telling you how ridiculous you look."
"It looks good on me. You love it. Everyone loves it."
"Whatever. What's the plan?"
"The plan is for me to go in and find Ianto. Yell at him probably. Maybe sneak in some quality time in a stall and for you to wait out here and keep the car going. It's cold out."
"Er, no. I'm going with you. What if Gwen's in there?"
"Then she can jo—"
"Don't fucking finish that, Harkness. Not in the mood." Rhys unfastened his seat belt and hopped out of the SUV. "Really though, you're sure Ianto's in there?"
"No, but his phone is at least. That's something to go on." Jack cut off the engine and hopped out of the SUV with Rhys following. Jack skipped to the front of the queue to get inside, stopping at the large burly bouncer and motioning for Rhys to stay close. He pulled an ID out of his coat pocket, which made Rhys wonder exactly how many things he carried in there, and put on one of those matinee idol smiles. "Torchwood. Special Ops. We believe a person of interest is located inside."
The bouncer gave Jack a long look over, then glanced briefly at Rhys. "You can go in. He can wait out here."
Rhys felt his face flush with embarrassment. Really? They'd let in the odd man with a flappy coat and not him? The world was mad. Jack's smile brightened, showing a little more teeth than necessary. "No can do, he's on my team. Interrogations," he whispered the last part theatrically loud while giving Rhys an exaggerated look. "Wouldn't want him to get antsy waiting out here."
"Er, right." The bouncer stepped to the side and motioned for them to enter. "The manager is in an office behind the bar. Be careful, we have a VIP up on the second level with some guests. You'll need either his or the manager's permission to get up there." Jack nodded and gave a flirty wave before taking Rhys by the arm and escorting him into the club.
Rhys flinched at the change of lighting. It was dim, lit only by amber lamps scattered throughout the place. Everything in the main room was dark bronze-colored metal – even the bar and that, with the lamps, gave everything a warm, slightly surreal glow. Rhys saw a door, thick, same bronzed metal material but with a window in it. Through the window there were flashing bright lights and, though he couldn't hear it completely, the vibrations of dance music seemed to throb its way through into the main area. To the left of the door was a set of stairs, leading up to a loft sort of area and blocked off by a thick rope and another surly looking bouncer standing at the bottom.
Jack tugged Rhys's sleeve. The music in here wasn't so loud, mostly indie music made for slight dancing and conversation. However, Rhys still found he needed to lean closer to hear Jack's words. He smelled spicy and exotic even in the crowded quarters. Jack smiled, that infuriating smile that made Rhys feel like Jack could read what he was thinking. "I'm going to go check in there," Jack jerked his chin toward the club area. "You look around the bar."
"Really? You think he's in there?"
"Ianto likes to dance."
Rhys laughed and shook his head. Jack was, occasionally, good at taking the piss. He motioned for Jack to go off on his search and headed toward the bar. Rhys ordered a pint, and after paying a ridiculous amount for just Brains, scanned the downstairs area. No sign of Gwen, no sign of Ianto. This was a fucking waste. Rhys leaned against the bar and looked at all the young, professional people on the pull. Occasionally he would get a look. Not one of interest, more one of what the fuck is that man doing here.
The whole scene made Rhys grateful to have a wife and not have to bother with all of this.
A woman's laughter drew Rhys's eyes back toward the staircase, where a blonde woman and a young man were leaning against the banister next to the bouncer. The woman was wearing one of those retro 50's fit dresses that always pleased Gwen so much to see. Her hair was a pixie cut and she wore a bit too much mascara and eyeliner. She had a hand on the young man's chest and he had one of his hands on her hip, whispering in her ear.
When the man straightened up, Rhys nearly spit out his beer on the gentlemen standing next to him. Ianto? It looked like him though. He was wearing the same lightly pinstriped suit pants Rhys had seen him in last, but his dress shirt was different. Instead of the soft baby blue Rhys had seen him in yesterday, he was wearing a well-tailored plum number – untucked – and no tie or suit jacket. His hair was mussed and he was grinning. He looked, well, young. He looked like he should be out here on the pull more than he ever really managed that suited secret agent look.
"Ianto?" Rhys yelled out. The bartender gave him a dirty look, but Ianto didn't look his way. He didn't take his eyes off the girl with him, actually.
Rhys looked around. Jack was still back with the writhing bodies and too loud dance music. Rhys huffed, typical Torchwood. Not around when they're needed or they don't bother until something explodes out of control. Rhys started maneuvering his way through the crowds, keeping an eye on sort-of-Ianto as he leaned forward to talk to the manic pixie girl again. She laughed and nodded and right before Rhys could squeeze through the crowd to them, Ianto lifted the VIP rope behind him. He and the girl slipped under the barrier and, arm in arm, headed up the stairs.
With a swear, Rhys rubbed his face. Something easy and simple would be nice right now. Straightening his battered jacket, he decided to play it like Jack Harkness. He'd smooth his hair, give a big smile and walk right past that muscled moron standing there like a bloody sentry guarding some mafia boss. Rhys rolled his shoulders, popped his neck, and walked confidently over toward the stairs. He had his hand on the rope to duck under it when something fairly vice-like gripped his arm.
"Oi, you're not supposed to go up there. Private party."
Rhys tried his version of a Captain Jack Harkness smile. He had a feeling his had a little bit less charm and a little more nervousness than Jack's ever did. The man guarding the door looked at Rhys like he was an insect of some kind. He was a big bloke, wearing black pants and a black button down. He looked well, a bit thick, honestly. "Right. My mate's up there. Was wearing the purple shirt?" Rhys motioned with his chin where Ianto had headed.
The Burly Guard snorted. "Sure. Why don't we wait down here then until he comes back? I'm sure he'll notice you're gone."
A stabbing pain radiated from Rhys's mouth, and he realized that he had bitten his tongue. Probably better than the colorful swear he'd wanted to hurl at the man. He nodded, pulled his arm free, and went to lean against an open table that had a view of the staircase. Some patience would be required for this situation. Wait for Jack, go upstairs, see what the fuck was going on and get some answers for where those two had been all day. Then, Rhys swore he heard familiar feminine laughter drifting from directly above him. He craned his neck to try and peer above the railing that gave the denizens of the private loft a view of the main floor of the club. Nothing, at first, and then a flash of red sweater and dark hair of someone leaning against the railing made Rhys's entire chest clench. Gwen was here. She and Ianto had fucked off to have a good time and weren't even bothered about who they were worrying or forcing to drive about all of Cardiff looking for them.
Just before Jack appeared, the Gwen-like figured disappeared. Rhys waved awkwardly to get Jack's attention and Jack, with the smile that Rhys couldn't quite manage, maneuvered through the crowd until he reached Rhys's table.
"No sign of them dancing."
"Yeah, well they might be dancing, for all we know. But not in there."
Jack's brow furrowed as a questioning look passed across his face.
"I saw Ianto. He's up there. He was down here, getting close with a girl, and they went up there. The muscle by the stairs wouldn't let me follow."
As discreet as he could manage, Rhys studied Jack's face for a reaction. When he'd mentioned Ianto had been with a girl, all Rhys could detect was a slight lift of the eyebrow from Jack before he looked toward the blocked off loft. Those two would be horrible to play against in poker. "You sure it was him?"
"Yeah. Had a different shirt on. Must've gone home and changed at some point."
"I know that's not true." With that, Jack shoved away from the table and headed straight toward the bouncer. His grin this time wasn't charming or persuasive, but shark-like and that, for some reason, made the hairs on Rhys's arms stand up. "Special Ops," Jack said smoothly as he flashed his identification badge. "Doing an investigation and a person of interest is up those stairs."
"Boss said it's a private party."
"Yeah, well, your boss knows I'm here. Now, you can go ask your boss. But other people will slip up there and, frankly, I'll be kinda annoyed at waiting here. So go, and you'll have a boss angry at you for wasting his time and mine." Jack leaned forward enough to crowd the larger man's personal space and Rhys was baffled to see that the bouncer backed away slightly. "I really don't want to be annoyed tonight. "
"Right. Well. If the boss says you can go, go on."
Jack nodded and patted the other man's firm stomach. "Rhys, come on," he yelled over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs. Rhys gave an awkward nod and shrugged his shoulders helplessly at the bouncer. As he was jogging to follow Jack, he swore he heard the man mumbling about not getting paid enough for this shit.
Upstairs, the loft area wasn't as impressive as muscly guards and roped off stairs implied. The lighting was still that same soft amber, but there were more couches and lounging areas than downstairs. Up here, there were people scattered about on the plush looking furniture surrounding small tables with ineffective lamps. There was a column blocking the view of the center of the room, but the laugh that Rhys heard made him rush forward, ahead of Jack. He reached the column and, on the other side, the sight made him freeze in his tracks.
Sitting around one of those awful crescent shaped sofas was, indeed, Ianto. And Gwen. And… for fuck's sake, Jerry the neighbor. Jerry was sitting in the middle. He had an arm around Gwen, telling her some apparently fucking hilarious story while his other hand waved a drink in emphasis. Rhys choked for a breath and grabbed Jack's coat, jerking him back behind the column. "Are you fucking serious," Rhys hissed. Jack made an expression that said about the same thing, however it was directed at Rhys. "They're with our fucking neighbor. He's… hold on."
Rhys stuck his head out from behind the column to get a better look at the group – all the while keeping a hold of Jack to avoid the Captain from breaking their cover. Yes. There was Jerry with Gwen. He looked like he was meant to be at some posh place in London, not in Cardiff. Rhys could see his tight black trousers and well cut light gray shirt showing off the toned arm that was insistently staying wrapped around Gwen. Ianto was on the other side, the pixie girl from downstairs half on his lap and grinning as his hand rested on her thigh. Rhys ducked back to his hiding spot with Jack. "I cannot fucking believe this. All of that fuss and they're out having a laugh with the psycho."
Jack pried off Rhys's hands and peered around the column. "He's pretty good looking. I'd take him home." Jack's blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Ianto could do better. I'm starting to think he has a thing for girls with short hair."
"Focus, Jack. How do we go about this?"
"Go about what?"
"You know, confronting them."
Jack shrugged. "About what exactly? I'm going to go over there and let them know that the next time they want to skip out on work, they need to let the boss know and that we'll talk about it tomorrow. Then I'm going to buy Ianto and that girl a drink and see if I get invited home with them."
"That's it," Rhys guffawed. "They disappear all day, we find them drinking and having fun, and you're going to join them?"
"I'm going to treat it like a work issue end deal with it at work." Jack shrugged. "If Ianto wants to talk about anything else, we'll talk. You and Gwen can take care of your own domestics. That's not my business. "
Jack brushed off his coat and left Rhys standing, open mouthed, behind the pillar. Rhys watched Jack approach, teeth flashing, and Ianto barely nod in acknowledgment to Jack's presence when Jack took a seat next to him.
The one person who did seem to be very interested in Jack, however, was Jerry. Jerry set down his drink, still keeping an arm around Gwen, and put a hand, almost possessively, on Ianto's knee. "I was wondering if you'd come over," Jerry grinned. "I mean, wearing that coat you can't be the shy type."
Jack returned Jerry's attention with a leer of his own and it was like watching a flirting competition on a masterful scale. Jerry slid money into the hands of the girl on Ianto's lap, telling her to go fetch drinks. The exaggerated pout on her face was almost comical; however, Ianto seemed oblivious to it as he watched the subtle flirtations and comments bantered between Jerry and Jack. Meanwhile, Rhys stumbled over, slowly, and stood in front of Gwen feeling all of the awkward school boy.
He puffed out his chest. "Right. You going to explain what this is all about then?"
Gwen seemed to be looking at the exchange between Jerry and Jack with the same rapt expression as Ianto.
"Hello? Gwen. Gwen."
Gwen's head snapped to look toward Rhys and her lips twitched into a distracted smile. "Yeah?" Rhys thought, even with his anger, she was looked gorgeous. The black leggings, boots and long red shirt that hung just enough off her shoulders to reveal her black bra straps made her look like a model. The way it clung to her curves could make someone's mouth water. Rhys definitely didn't remember Gwen ever owning anything like that.
Rhys cleared his thoughts and scolded himself for getting distracted. "Right. What're you going to say for yourself? The look of confusion on Gwen's face at least helped strengthen Rhys's resolve. "Come on then, you and Ianto, disappearing and going off for a day of drinking and doing fuck knows what else. And with… him. That self-entitled arse from upstairs."
"Hey, Jerry is fun." Rhys frowned. Gwen had a large dreamy smile plastered on her face, but her eyes looked tired and dazed. She had to have been drinking all day to get in that state.
"Uh huh. What sort of fun have you two been having then?"
Gwen's face distorted in disdain. "That's none of your business."
"None of my business? None of my business? I'm your husband. It is my business." Rhys could feel his own anger flushing his cheeks and he took a step backwards to get a breath to clear his head.
Gwen's face twisted in annoyance. "Oh come off it. I wanted to go out. You'd never be caught dead in a place like this. I just want to let my hair down and feel gorgeous for once."
"Gwen, you're always gorgeous." Rhys frowned, concern written all over his face, and he couldn't quite place why. It wasn't like Gwen to lash out like this, nor have confidence issues. She knew how fantastic she was.
"To you, Rhys. To you. I want everyone to see what I can be. Can't you understand? Can't you try to at least?"
He stepped back again, shaking his head, and stepped right into the firm chest of Jack Harkness. Rhys startled and whirled around. "You trying to scare me to death?" He hadn't even seen Jack stand up, seeing as he was too focused on trying to make Gwen stop looking at him like an inconvenience.
"We need to go."
"What? No, I'm not leaving. I need to talk to Gwen. We're trying to have a row."
There was a part of Rhys that was ready to take Jack straight on, feet apart and give him the best challenging look he could. However, Jack's serious expression and the way Jack slid around Rhys's and gripped it tight gave him enough of a hint to shut his mouth and follow along for now. Rhys managed to give Gwen one last fleeting glance over his shoulder – she'd already started ignoring him again, listening to whatever that prat was telling Ianto – and let himself be guided downstairs and out of the club.
Once out in the fresh air, Rhys jerked his arm free of Jack. "What was that about?"
Jack didn't even bother to look up from his wrist strap that was, apparently, very intriguing at the moment. "Jerry? Your neighbor? Not human."
Part Four
In the morning, Rhys Williams woke up without a hangover. He felt pretty good actually – though some eggy toast and a cup of hot coffee did sound brilliant. Rubbing the sleep and gunk off his face, he stretched one arm lazily out to grope the space next to him. Empty. Well. That was becoming an oddly reoccurring situation. Rhys rolled out of bed, whistling, and grabbed his robe from the bathroom door. He stepped out into the living space, expecting the sight of Gwen and Ianto and breakfast to greet him. Instead, there was nothing. Ianto's blankets and pillow were scattered about and that, too, wasn't quite right. Normally, Ianto left everything tidied and folded up nicer than when he got there.
"Hello?"
Alright, Rhys wasn't entirely sure who he expected to answer then. It wasn't as if the two of them were hiding behind the sofa. He could see behind the sofa – that definitely wasn't the case. So they'd probably been called out for some sort of emergency. It was good of Gwen to let him sleep, really. Rhys checked his mobile that he'd left on the kitchen table. No messages. Must have been quite an adventure. He hit Gwen's number on the speed dial and instantly heard the dancing tones of some Scissors Sisters song fill the flat. That explained no messages. Fairly typical and better than her losing the new phone to some sort of slime again.
Another quick investigation revealed Ianto had forgotten his tie, but everything else had been collected and accounted for. Rhys shot off a quick text to Ianto, telling him to let Gwen know he'd found her mobile, and started to get ready for work.
Rhys didn't think anything else of it until around lunchtime when a flashing series of asterisks appeared on his mobile's caller ID. There was only one number that ever popped up like that.
"Hello, sweetheart. I was about to wonder if you'd forgotten about me."
"Oh, Rhys Williams, with those big strong hands of yours, how could anyone forget you?
Rhys's face instantly flushed and he ducked into his office, shutting the door quickly before his staff could question his agitated state. "Jack Harkness, you can fuck off with that right now. You don't pretend to be a man's wife on the phone just to embarrass him. "
Jack chuckled and Rhys had to suppress his irritation at the smooth American voice over the phone. He was really starting to think he had a bias against that continent's accents. "I didn't pretend. You assumed."
"Right. Well. Close enough." Rhys flopped down in his office chair and ran a hand through his hair. "Gwen s'okay, isn't she?" He figured, honestly, that she was. Harkness was a bit of a prat, but even he wouldn't put on airs if Gwen was hurt or in trouble.
"Dunno. Was hoping you could answer that. I seem to be missing my entire staff."
"Gwen and Ianto, eh? Probably needed a break from you." Jack huffed over the line but before he could respond, Rhys frowned. "They were gone before I was awake. I assumed they were off with you."
"No. I called them both –"
"Gwen left her mobile at home."
"Of course she did. No answer from Ianto though."
"Aye, yeah. I sent him a message earlier. No response. Thought they were busy. He doesn't like texting much."
"Depends on what you're sending him."
Rhys squeezed his eyes shut. He liked Ianto, he did. After the explosions in Cardiff, and Gwen's unofficial adoption of him into their family, Rhys had grown attached to him. He'd still never understand what the hell a boy from Newport was doing with Jack Harkness, but, you know, can't get into the head of others. "So they're not here, and they're not with you…"
"I'm turning on the tracking unit in Ianto's mobile."
"Tracking unit—Christ. Do you have one in Gwen's as well?"
"And yours."
Rhys pulled away from the mobile and looked at the phone suspiciously, as if he could force the phone into giving up whether or not Jack was lying. "You're joking."
"No, hold on." There was the clacking of computer keys on the other end of the line and then a victorious little a-ha. "He's at your place."
"I was there. They aren't."
"Must have been out when you left and came back. Maybe," Jack's voice dropped in pitch and took a flirty tone that immediately put Rhys's teeth on edge. "Maybe they're having an illicit affair and want to keep it from us." Rhys choked out a laugh and shook his head. "Come on, Rhys. Even you have to admit that'd be a pretty sight to walk in on."
Oh, how he sometimes wanted to hit this man. "Right. Well, I know Gwen's pretty happy. Maybe you're a bit worried about where Ianto goes at night, but I'm not."
An awkward silence answered him.
"Want me to go check on them? Rhys asked lamely, trying to fix the apparent faux paus he'd just committed.
"Er. Yeah. If you could. I'm a little busy here and I've got some meetings in an hour."
"No problem. I'll yell at them for you."
"Thanks. Also, if they're naked, take pictures."
Rhys, instead of responding, jabbed the disconnect button on his mobile as forcibly as he could.
****
Rhys told his staff he was popping out because Gwen had gone home sick. He left Bev in charge and kept his mobile in his pocket in case anyone needed him. The drive back was short and Rhys jogged up the stairs without a thought of odd neighbors.
"Gwen?" He yelled as he stepped into the flat. "Ianto? You two alright?" Silence answered him. He frowned. Everything looked the same as when he left. No new dirty dishes, television off and Ianto's blanket folded at the end of the couch where he'd left it that morning. Rhys crept to the bedroom, but he could hear no sounds from there either.
It was ridiculous. Jack had been teasing him. Jack always joked about naked teambuilding and often invited Rhys to join in as well. However, it didn't help the tense feeling in Rhys's muscles. He was only human. Gwen was too, but she had that sexy super spy thing going on. Rhys pushed the door open gently. "Gwen?" he called out softly. The room was empty and Rhys felt all the muscles in his back and neck unwind as he exhaled.
Rhys sat heavily on the bed and looked around, perturbed at the normalcy of it all. Jack didn't know where Gwen and Ianto were. Rhys didn't. Neither of them were responding to calls. It... didn't look good. Rhys pulled out his phone and called the number Gwen gave him to get a hold of her work. Jack answered on the second ring.
"You know, I may need to explain to your gorgeous wife what a private number is."
"They're not here."
There was a pause. "Really? Ianto's GPS signal is still there."
"Yeah, well he's not."
Jack hmm'd over the phone and Rhys heard the sound of a chair scooting across hard floor. "Were there any signs of forced entry or struggle when you got up this morning?"
"What? You think they were kidnapped?"
"Rhys."
"Really though, how would someone manage to kidnap two alien hunters from my flat, successfully, without waking me up? I don't snore tha—"
"Rhys."
Rhys rubbed his forehead. "No, nothing. Looked like they got up and left for work. All I found was Gwen's phone and Ianto's tie."
"That doesn't sound like Ianto to leave for work not dressed."
"He did the last time he was here. Said he had clothes there."
There was an embarrassed cough from over the line and a weak smile traced Rhys's face. He'd normally be enjoying Jack's discomfort, but Jack sounded worried. If Jack was worried, well…
"You sure they aren't out on the job?"
"I think I'd know if they were. I was here all night. Ianto didn't even message me this morning."
Rhys fell backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "What do we do then?"
"You? Nothing. I'm coming over to look for clues."
"Right. Well. I'll put the kettle on."
Jack was there in ten minutes, which could only mean he violated every speeding and traffic law in Cardiff to get there. They'd searched the place, questioned some people in the neighborhood and came up with nothing. Rhys had even broken down and called Andy Davidson, the smug bastard. When Andy made a comment about Rhys and Captain Flappity Coat not keeping up with their people, both men rolled their eyes. Then shuddered. Even if it was just mutual annoyance with Andy, neither was quite ready for a manly bonding session Hours later, well past dusk, Rhys had given up on going back to work and was genuinely, sincerely worried. The drawn look on Jack's face suggested the same. Now Jack was standing in Rhys's living room, picking up blankets and couch cushions and glaring at Ianto's tie like it was a hostile witness.
Finally, Jack sat down on the couch in defeat. He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure nothing strange happened?"
"No. I told you. We ate. Gwen scolded our neighbor for being loud. She came back. We drank some more."
"Which neighbor?"
"I've told you. The one upstairs. Look, there's something off about him, I'll give you that. But she came back and she was fine, and I doubt he managed to sneak in here and whisk them away when I wasn't looking."
"No, you were asleep."
Rhys glared and took a seat at the kitchen table. "So, what do we do now?"
"I guess we'll start asking around again. See if anything's been reported to the police ---"
A beeping filled the flat and Jack pulled his mobile out of his great coat. His brow furrowed in confusion.
"What's that then?"
Jack clicked a few buttons before looking up at Rhys. "Ianto's turned his phone on. He's at – some club. Seriously?" Jack narrowed his eyes and jabbed a button, presumably a speed dial, to connect to Ianto's. He held the phone to his ear for a moment before growling and shoving into his pocket again. "Okay. Now I'm just getting pissed off."
"What is it?"
"I think he's rejecting my calls!"
Rhys let his head fall back onto his shoulders and groaned. "Is that was this is then? Did you two have a domestic and they've fucked off for a day to teach you a lesson? Bloody Harkness, it's one thing to put Gwen in danger and ano—"
Jack snapped his fingers loudly. "Hey. Hey! First, we don't do domestics. That's for resigned married slobs with morbid fascinations with cooking shows and spaghetti. Second, he doesn't ignore my calls, even if he's being pissy. Not in our line of work. You sure you didn't do anything wrong?"
"Me? Me! Oh, not bloody likely." Rhys stood up and grabbed his coat from a nearby table. "Enough of this. Let's go see where he is and if he knows what the fuck is going on."
Jack looked like he wanted to continue fighting but paused, as if he was trying to come up with a better plan than the one Rhys suggested. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. Stay behind me and make sure you do what I say. We don't know what we're walking into."
"Yeah, would hate for someone to buy me a drink or something."
****
The club that Jack parked across the street from – illegally – was not the sort of place Rhys imagined finding Gwen or Ianto. It was a bit posh, mostly. Not that Rhys couldn't imagine Ianto somewhere posh; he just imagined Ianto somewhere classy with nice scotch. This was more for young people who wanted to shag and be seen than the sort of establishment he'd imagine Ianto frequenting. Rhys looked down at his jeans and long sleeved shirt and then over at the slim young things in line in trendy clothes. "We're not getting in there."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Welsh. Act confident and you can get in anywhere."
"Suppose that's how you manage looking like something from a period film all the time."
Jack pouted, actually pouted with his lip out, and Rhys stared back at him. Jack met his gaze and their silent battle of wills engaged. Finally, Rhys broke away and shook his head. "I can't believe neither of them have bothered telling you how ridiculous you look."
"It looks good on me. You love it. Everyone loves it."
"Whatever. What's the plan?"
"The plan is for me to go in and find Ianto. Yell at him probably. Maybe sneak in some quality time in a stall and for you to wait out here and keep the car going. It's cold out."
"Er, no. I'm going with you. What if Gwen's in there?"
"Then she can jo—"
"Don't fucking finish that, Harkness. Not in the mood." Rhys unfastened his seat belt and hopped out of the SUV. "Really though, you're sure Ianto's in there?"
"No, but his phone is at least. That's something to go on." Jack cut off the engine and hopped out of the SUV with Rhys following. Jack skipped to the front of the queue to get inside, stopping at the large burly bouncer and motioning for Rhys to stay close. He pulled an ID out of his coat pocket, which made Rhys wonder exactly how many things he carried in there, and put on one of those matinee idol smiles. "Torchwood. Special Ops. We believe a person of interest is located inside."
The bouncer gave Jack a long look over, then glanced briefly at Rhys. "You can go in. He can wait out here."
Rhys felt his face flush with embarrassment. Really? They'd let in the odd man with a flappy coat and not him? The world was mad. Jack's smile brightened, showing a little more teeth than necessary. "No can do, he's on my team. Interrogations," he whispered the last part theatrically loud while giving Rhys an exaggerated look. "Wouldn't want him to get antsy waiting out here."
"Er, right." The bouncer stepped to the side and motioned for them to enter. "The manager is in an office behind the bar. Be careful, we have a VIP up on the second level with some guests. You'll need either his or the manager's permission to get up there." Jack nodded and gave a flirty wave before taking Rhys by the arm and escorting him into the club.
Rhys flinched at the change of lighting. It was dim, lit only by amber lamps scattered throughout the place. Everything in the main room was dark bronze-colored metal – even the bar and that, with the lamps, gave everything a warm, slightly surreal glow. Rhys saw a door, thick, same bronzed metal material but with a window in it. Through the window there were flashing bright lights and, though he couldn't hear it completely, the vibrations of dance music seemed to throb its way through into the main area. To the left of the door was a set of stairs, leading up to a loft sort of area and blocked off by a thick rope and another surly looking bouncer standing at the bottom.
Jack tugged Rhys's sleeve. The music in here wasn't so loud, mostly indie music made for slight dancing and conversation. However, Rhys still found he needed to lean closer to hear Jack's words. He smelled spicy and exotic even in the crowded quarters. Jack smiled, that infuriating smile that made Rhys feel like Jack could read what he was thinking. "I'm going to go check in there," Jack jerked his chin toward the club area. "You look around the bar."
"Really? You think he's in there?"
"Ianto likes to dance."
Rhys laughed and shook his head. Jack was, occasionally, good at taking the piss. He motioned for Jack to go off on his search and headed toward the bar. Rhys ordered a pint, and after paying a ridiculous amount for just Brains, scanned the downstairs area. No sign of Gwen, no sign of Ianto. This was a fucking waste. Rhys leaned against the bar and looked at all the young, professional people on the pull. Occasionally he would get a look. Not one of interest, more one of what the fuck is that man doing here.
The whole scene made Rhys grateful to have a wife and not have to bother with all of this.
A woman's laughter drew Rhys's eyes back toward the staircase, where a blonde woman and a young man were leaning against the banister next to the bouncer. The woman was wearing one of those retro 50's fit dresses that always pleased Gwen so much to see. Her hair was a pixie cut and she wore a bit too much mascara and eyeliner. She had a hand on the young man's chest and he had one of his hands on her hip, whispering in her ear.
When the man straightened up, Rhys nearly spit out his beer on the gentlemen standing next to him. Ianto? It looked like him though. He was wearing the same lightly pinstriped suit pants Rhys had seen him in last, but his dress shirt was different. Instead of the soft baby blue Rhys had seen him in yesterday, he was wearing a well-tailored plum number – untucked – and no tie or suit jacket. His hair was mussed and he was grinning. He looked, well, young. He looked like he should be out here on the pull more than he ever really managed that suited secret agent look.
"Ianto?" Rhys yelled out. The bartender gave him a dirty look, but Ianto didn't look his way. He didn't take his eyes off the girl with him, actually.
Rhys looked around. Jack was still back with the writhing bodies and too loud dance music. Rhys huffed, typical Torchwood. Not around when they're needed or they don't bother until something explodes out of control. Rhys started maneuvering his way through the crowds, keeping an eye on sort-of-Ianto as he leaned forward to talk to the manic pixie girl again. She laughed and nodded and right before Rhys could squeeze through the crowd to them, Ianto lifted the VIP rope behind him. He and the girl slipped under the barrier and, arm in arm, headed up the stairs.
With a swear, Rhys rubbed his face. Something easy and simple would be nice right now. Straightening his battered jacket, he decided to play it like Jack Harkness. He'd smooth his hair, give a big smile and walk right past that muscled moron standing there like a bloody sentry guarding some mafia boss. Rhys rolled his shoulders, popped his neck, and walked confidently over toward the stairs. He had his hand on the rope to duck under it when something fairly vice-like gripped his arm.
"Oi, you're not supposed to go up there. Private party."
Rhys tried his version of a Captain Jack Harkness smile. He had a feeling his had a little bit less charm and a little more nervousness than Jack's ever did. The man guarding the door looked at Rhys like he was an insect of some kind. He was a big bloke, wearing black pants and a black button down. He looked well, a bit thick, honestly. "Right. My mate's up there. Was wearing the purple shirt?" Rhys motioned with his chin where Ianto had headed.
The Burly Guard snorted. "Sure. Why don't we wait down here then until he comes back? I'm sure he'll notice you're gone."
A stabbing pain radiated from Rhys's mouth, and he realized that he had bitten his tongue. Probably better than the colorful swear he'd wanted to hurl at the man. He nodded, pulled his arm free, and went to lean against an open table that had a view of the staircase. Some patience would be required for this situation. Wait for Jack, go upstairs, see what the fuck was going on and get some answers for where those two had been all day. Then, Rhys swore he heard familiar feminine laughter drifting from directly above him. He craned his neck to try and peer above the railing that gave the denizens of the private loft a view of the main floor of the club. Nothing, at first, and then a flash of red sweater and dark hair of someone leaning against the railing made Rhys's entire chest clench. Gwen was here. She and Ianto had fucked off to have a good time and weren't even bothered about who they were worrying or forcing to drive about all of Cardiff looking for them.
Just before Jack appeared, the Gwen-like figured disappeared. Rhys waved awkwardly to get Jack's attention and Jack, with the smile that Rhys couldn't quite manage, maneuvered through the crowd until he reached Rhys's table.
"No sign of them dancing."
"Yeah, well they might be dancing, for all we know. But not in there."
Jack's brow furrowed as a questioning look passed across his face.
"I saw Ianto. He's up there. He was down here, getting close with a girl, and they went up there. The muscle by the stairs wouldn't let me follow."
As discreet as he could manage, Rhys studied Jack's face for a reaction. When he'd mentioned Ianto had been with a girl, all Rhys could detect was a slight lift of the eyebrow from Jack before he looked toward the blocked off loft. Those two would be horrible to play against in poker. "You sure it was him?"
"Yeah. Had a different shirt on. Must've gone home and changed at some point."
"I know that's not true." With that, Jack shoved away from the table and headed straight toward the bouncer. His grin this time wasn't charming or persuasive, but shark-like and that, for some reason, made the hairs on Rhys's arms stand up. "Special Ops," Jack said smoothly as he flashed his identification badge. "Doing an investigation and a person of interest is up those stairs."
"Boss said it's a private party."
"Yeah, well, your boss knows I'm here. Now, you can go ask your boss. But other people will slip up there and, frankly, I'll be kinda annoyed at waiting here. So go, and you'll have a boss angry at you for wasting his time and mine." Jack leaned forward enough to crowd the larger man's personal space and Rhys was baffled to see that the bouncer backed away slightly. "I really don't want to be annoyed tonight. "
"Right. Well. If the boss says you can go, go on."
Jack nodded and patted the other man's firm stomach. "Rhys, come on," he yelled over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs. Rhys gave an awkward nod and shrugged his shoulders helplessly at the bouncer. As he was jogging to follow Jack, he swore he heard the man mumbling about not getting paid enough for this shit.
Upstairs, the loft area wasn't as impressive as muscly guards and roped off stairs implied. The lighting was still that same soft amber, but there were more couches and lounging areas than downstairs. Up here, there were people scattered about on the plush looking furniture surrounding small tables with ineffective lamps. There was a column blocking the view of the center of the room, but the laugh that Rhys heard made him rush forward, ahead of Jack. He reached the column and, on the other side, the sight made him freeze in his tracks.
Sitting around one of those awful crescent shaped sofas was, indeed, Ianto. And Gwen. And… for fuck's sake, Jerry the neighbor. Jerry was sitting in the middle. He had an arm around Gwen, telling her some apparently fucking hilarious story while his other hand waved a drink in emphasis. Rhys choked for a breath and grabbed Jack's coat, jerking him back behind the column. "Are you fucking serious," Rhys hissed. Jack made an expression that said about the same thing, however it was directed at Rhys. "They're with our fucking neighbor. He's… hold on."
Rhys stuck his head out from behind the column to get a better look at the group – all the while keeping a hold of Jack to avoid the Captain from breaking their cover. Yes. There was Jerry with Gwen. He looked like he was meant to be at some posh place in London, not in Cardiff. Rhys could see his tight black trousers and well cut light gray shirt showing off the toned arm that was insistently staying wrapped around Gwen. Ianto was on the other side, the pixie girl from downstairs half on his lap and grinning as his hand rested on her thigh. Rhys ducked back to his hiding spot with Jack. "I cannot fucking believe this. All of that fuss and they're out having a laugh with the psycho."
Jack pried off Rhys's hands and peered around the column. "He's pretty good looking. I'd take him home." Jack's blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Ianto could do better. I'm starting to think he has a thing for girls with short hair."
"Focus, Jack. How do we go about this?"
"Go about what?"
"You know, confronting them."
Jack shrugged. "About what exactly? I'm going to go over there and let them know that the next time they want to skip out on work, they need to let the boss know and that we'll talk about it tomorrow. Then I'm going to buy Ianto and that girl a drink and see if I get invited home with them."
"That's it," Rhys guffawed. "They disappear all day, we find them drinking and having fun, and you're going to join them?"
"I'm going to treat it like a work issue end deal with it at work." Jack shrugged. "If Ianto wants to talk about anything else, we'll talk. You and Gwen can take care of your own domestics. That's not my business. "
Jack brushed off his coat and left Rhys standing, open mouthed, behind the pillar. Rhys watched Jack approach, teeth flashing, and Ianto barely nod in acknowledgment to Jack's presence when Jack took a seat next to him.
The one person who did seem to be very interested in Jack, however, was Jerry. Jerry set down his drink, still keeping an arm around Gwen, and put a hand, almost possessively, on Ianto's knee. "I was wondering if you'd come over," Jerry grinned. "I mean, wearing that coat you can't be the shy type."
Jack returned Jerry's attention with a leer of his own and it was like watching a flirting competition on a masterful scale. Jerry slid money into the hands of the girl on Ianto's lap, telling her to go fetch drinks. The exaggerated pout on her face was almost comical; however, Ianto seemed oblivious to it as he watched the subtle flirtations and comments bantered between Jerry and Jack. Meanwhile, Rhys stumbled over, slowly, and stood in front of Gwen feeling all of the awkward school boy.
He puffed out his chest. "Right. You going to explain what this is all about then?"
Gwen seemed to be looking at the exchange between Jerry and Jack with the same rapt expression as Ianto.
"Hello? Gwen. Gwen."
Gwen's head snapped to look toward Rhys and her lips twitched into a distracted smile. "Yeah?" Rhys thought, even with his anger, she was looked gorgeous. The black leggings, boots and long red shirt that hung just enough off her shoulders to reveal her black bra straps made her look like a model. The way it clung to her curves could make someone's mouth water. Rhys definitely didn't remember Gwen ever owning anything like that.
Rhys cleared his thoughts and scolded himself for getting distracted. "Right. What're you going to say for yourself? The look of confusion on Gwen's face at least helped strengthen Rhys's resolve. "Come on then, you and Ianto, disappearing and going off for a day of drinking and doing fuck knows what else. And with… him. That self-entitled arse from upstairs."
"Hey, Jerry is fun." Rhys frowned. Gwen had a large dreamy smile plastered on her face, but her eyes looked tired and dazed. She had to have been drinking all day to get in that state.
"Uh huh. What sort of fun have you two been having then?"
Gwen's face distorted in disdain. "That's none of your business."
"None of my business? None of my business? I'm your husband. It is my business." Rhys could feel his own anger flushing his cheeks and he took a step backwards to get a breath to clear his head.
Gwen's face twisted in annoyance. "Oh come off it. I wanted to go out. You'd never be caught dead in a place like this. I just want to let my hair down and feel gorgeous for once."
"Gwen, you're always gorgeous." Rhys frowned, concern written all over his face, and he couldn't quite place why. It wasn't like Gwen to lash out like this, nor have confidence issues. She knew how fantastic she was.
"To you, Rhys. To you. I want everyone to see what I can be. Can't you understand? Can't you try to at least?"
He stepped back again, shaking his head, and stepped right into the firm chest of Jack Harkness. Rhys startled and whirled around. "You trying to scare me to death?" He hadn't even seen Jack stand up, seeing as he was too focused on trying to make Gwen stop looking at him like an inconvenience.
"We need to go."
"What? No, I'm not leaving. I need to talk to Gwen. We're trying to have a row."
There was a part of Rhys that was ready to take Jack straight on, feet apart and give him the best challenging look he could. However, Jack's serious expression and the way Jack slid around Rhys's and gripped it tight gave him enough of a hint to shut his mouth and follow along for now. Rhys managed to give Gwen one last fleeting glance over his shoulder – she'd already started ignoring him again, listening to whatever that prat was telling Ianto – and let himself be guided downstairs and out of the club.
Once out in the fresh air, Rhys jerked his arm free of Jack. "What was that about?"
Jack didn't even bother to look up from his wrist strap that was, apparently, very intriguing at the moment. "Jerry? Your neighbor? Not human."
Part Four